


Family Matters

by PenguinLoki



Category: Glee
Genre: Gen, Not Rachel Friendly, in depth talk of canon character death, mentions of an emotionally abusive friendship, survivor's guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-14
Updated: 2014-05-14
Packaged: 2018-01-24 17:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1613159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenguinLoki/pseuds/PenguinLoki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A phone call between Burt and Kurt about all the not-so-nice thoughts Kurt keeps having despite his best efforts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Matters

**Author's Note:**

> Set in between The Back Up Plan and Old Dogs, New Tricks.

Kurt is pacing his section of the loft as he talks to his dad. He’s never managed to talk on the phone while being stationary, a trait that drove his dad nuts when he was living at home. Now that he’s the person Kurt calls the most he’s amused by the situation. Especially when Kurt trips or stubs his toes and Burt gets to hear the ensuing stream of curses.

“And dare I ask how Rachel is doing?”

Kurt chuckles at the weariness in his father’s voice. Lately it seems that whenever his dad brings up his roommate (or mates, depending on the _week_ ) he has to first brace himself. “She’s… I don’t even know, dad.  She went to LA for a TV audition.”

“Isn’t she under contract with that play thing?” Kurt can picture very clearly his dad taking off his hat to scratch at his head and sometimes he misses him so much it  _hurts_.

“Yes. She is.”

“And how did that work out for her?”

“Not very well, shockingly enough.”

Burt chuckles, “Did she get fired then?”

“Of course not,” Kurt mutters, mostly managing to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “That would force her to learn a  _lesson_.”

The sound of his father sighing tells him that he was unsuccessful. “Did she do well for the… try out? Audition? For the TV thing.”

“Um, no. Apparently she didn’t read the script, or wasn’t sent one. I’m fuzzy on the details. So she sang them something for an audition piece.”

“Pick a bad song?” Burt asks, sounding amused at the situation.

“It wasn’t a musical.” His dad snorts out a laugh as a response, but doesn’t say anything. “And I guess it was all downhill from there. She didn’t give me very many details in her retelling.”

“When does she even have  _time_ to do all this,” Burt asks, sounding genuinely confused. “She’s doing all those shows and working at the diner and still can fly to California? If she can do all that, why can’t you visit more often? I miss ya, bud.”

“I miss you too, dad. A lot. But I really am swamped here and Rachel didn’t exactly have time to fly out to LA either. It’s what got her caught.”

“Wait, you mean she wasn’t on a day off?” Burt sighs heavily, and for a minute Kurt  _almost_ wishes that Rachel was his sister. He doesn’t think both of them would have survived to adulthood that way, but sometimes he thinks she wouldn’t be as…  _eccentric_  if she’d had his dad. But as much as he thinks that everyone should have parents as great as his, he doesn’t really want to  _share_.

Not again.

“She called in sick,” he explains quickly. “They called in her understudy, she flew to the west coast, understudy got hurt and the producers needed her to come back, but…”

“Do I even want to  _know_  what happened next?” Burt asks wryly.

“Well… she was stuck in traffic, because I guess that’s just what happens when you’re there.”

“Makes sense.”

“So she called me and told me that I needed to fix this, so—”

“Kurt,” Burt groans. It’s amazing to him that even after moving out of the house, the  _state_ , getting his own place, working two jobs  _plus_  going to school, and getting pretty good at this whole  _adult_ thing, that his dad still manages to make him sound like a scolded child in one syllable.

“What’d I do?” he asks automatically.

“Practiced your doormat impression, from the sounds of it,” Burt says bluntly, and Kurt flinches. “Why was it up to  _you_ to fix her mistake? She’s just as old as you are; she could’ve called them big wigs and owned up to her mistake  _on her own_.”

“I  _know_ that, but it’s just… we’re friends, you know and… she needed my help.”

“Kurt, bud, friendship is supposed to go both ways. When’s the last time she helped you with something? Last I heard she was throwing chocolate at your head because… actually, I don’t know  _why_ since you were bein’ _nice_ to her.”

“It’s… complicated.”

“It really isn’t.” Kurt sighs. He hates feeling like he’s disappointing his dad, but at this point he doesn’t know how to  _avoid_ that. Aren’t parents supposed to be proud of you for not being selfish? “I’m not trying to be mean here,” Burt says, sounding weary of this conversation already. “I know you and Rachel have been friends for… I don’t know, a year now? Two? But it’s like you don’t do anything for  _you_ anymore, kid.”

“Hey, I started a band and—”

“Begged her to be in it. Hell, you even let her  _name_ it.”

“I kicked her out of that one. Well, and Santana. They were getting to be a bit much.”

“You’re avoiding the point,” Burt says sternly.

“I’m not even sure what the point  _is_ ,” Kurt confesses.

“Remember what I told you when you were growin’ up? Nobody pushes the Hummels around.”

“I know, dad.”

“Do you?” Burt sighs again, and Kurt  _hates_ feeling like he’s disappointed his father. “I remember what high school was like for you, and I don’t have nostalgia glasses on. You fought Rachel for solos all the time. You bickered with Mercedes. You even yelled a Schuester!”

“I got detention for that.”

“But you  _did_ it. And standing up to all those bullies? Kurt, you were always _fighting_  for yourself, even if you were against your friends at the time. And since moving out there? It just feels like you gave up and are letting her walk all over you. And you’ve never  _done_ that before, even for your other friends.”

“I can’t just argue with her over everything anymore, dad,” Kurt says, flopping onto his bed in an undignified heap. “We  _live_ together, she’s my best friend.”

The scoffing laugh that he hears his dad make forces him to smile despite himself. It’s the same noise he’d made whenever he thought that Kurt was purposely being difficult just for the sake of it, but he thought it was funny nonetheless. “I’ll be sure to tell Blaine that when I talk to him next.”

“That’s different!”

“And Mercedes too! I miss her. You guys graduated and suddenly there weren’t teenagers in and out of my house at all hours of the day. I never thought I’d  _miss_ it. And what about that… that guy from your band? Elliot?”

“Dad,” Kurt groans. “As you’ve just pointed out, I  _graduated_ high school. I don’t need you to pick out friends for me like I’m still in  _kindergarten_.”

“Like you ever let me pick out your friends for you.” Burt pauses, and Kurt gives him a minute to sort through his thoughts. His dad always does know just what to say, even if it takes him some time to figure out. “Even as a kindergartener you still talked about New York, did you know that? I wasn’t sure how you even knew what it  _was_ , but… well, you’ve been surprising me from a young age. It’s been all you’ve wanted your whole life.”

“It still is,” Kurt insists. “I love it here.”

“I know you do. But, kid, it seems like since you’ve been there I’ve heard more about what  _Rachel_ has been up to than I have from you. And you’ve done some pretty amazing things, don’t get me wrong. I could not be more proud of you if I tried. I just… I don’t understand why you’re spending so much of your time trying to watch out for someone who doesn’t appreciate it.”

“Because Finn can’t.” The words leave his mouth before he can think about them, and he instantly regrets it. He should  _not_ be stressing his dad out like this.

There’s silence on the other line, and Kurt wishes that they’d done this over Skype instead. Not being able to see his dad’s face and know what kind of damage control he needs to do is nerve wracking. The longer the quiet lasts, the worse his nerves get until suddenly he’s talking and can’t seem to stop even while the silence from the other end of the phone gets louder and louder. “I know that I wasn’t always the most supportive of their whole relationship, I know that. And I actually did a lot to try and get them to break off their engagement which sounds kind of hypocritical now, but at the time it just… well, it made sense then. But dad, Finn wanted to _marry_ her. And now he’s just… he’s  _gone_ and- and—”

“Kurt, bud, you gotta calm down,” Burt says, sounding so suddenly  _old_ like the conversation has aged him. He sounds like Kurt’s hazy memories of the weeks following his mother’s death. The thought makes him cry harder, and that’s the first he realizes that he  _had_ been crying. He’s not even sure when he started, but his face is soaked with tears and he feels like he’s not getting enough air.

“He wanted to spend his whole  _life_ with her. He was going to move in and marry her and I was going to be an  _uncle_ eventually and now it’s never going to happen.” The words claw at his throat the whole way up, and he knows he’s worrying his dad and that he promised himself he wasn’t going to do this, but now that he’s actually  _talking_ about it he can’t seem to stop. “He was willing to wait in  _Ohio_  for her. He  _wanted_ this and I can barely  _stand_ it. She drives me  _nuts_. But whenever I think about just leaving her behind, I remember that Finn would have been  _happy_ to be living with her.”

“He wouldn’t have wanted you to make yourself miserable, Kurt,” his dad says softly, and Kurt chokes on another sob.

“He would have  _wanted_ to do everything I’m  _complaining_ about! I  _told_ him I’d try and watch out for her. And now he’s not here to hold me to that and it’s…” he lets out a strangled noise, not able to find the words to properly articulate that thought. “I can’t just… I can’t just leave her alone. I  _promised_ him I wouldn’t. I can’t go back on that just because he’s not here to hold me to it anymore.”

“Hey, hey. Shhh, now. It’s okay, Kurt. I get it, I do.” There’s silence on the phone, while his dad absorbs this and Kurt tries to catch his breath. “I know you want to do right by his memory, Kurt. I completely understand. But you can’t put your life on hold to play babysitter for someone who’s making you miserable.”

Kurt almost says something, but cuts himself off. He will  _not_ say that to his father. Will not voice the nagging guilt that’s constantly at the back of his mind. The reminder that even he’s dissatisfied with his parts of his life lately, at least he  _has_ one. He still has  _options_ , can still  _make_ things work even though his brother  _can’t_  anymore.

Sometimes, when he’s the only person in his bed and his brain refuses to just  _stop_ so that he can sleep, he wonders what everyone would be doing if it was him instead of Finn. He doesn’t think his dad would have recovered from it, but at the same time he really doubts that Carole is ever going to get over this. He can see it when he looks at her, sometimes. He wonders if things with Rachel would have gotten so out of hand if she’d still had Finn to anchor her, help reign in the crazy a little bit. Puck is doing better now, but Kurt still remembers that horrible and  _empty_ look on his face during the funeral. How  _angry_ he was during the memorial, when he was ready to fight Kurt for a jacket.

Finn would have been a great teacher. Better than Schuester was, at any rate. As much as Mr. Schue  _tried,_ he wasn’t always  _helpful_ , and after living with Kurt throughout most of high school, he doubts  _Finn_ would have ever told a hopeful sophomore that  _no, that’s a girl’s song, you don’t get to try_. He hadn’t been perfect in high school, not by a long shot. But he was still  _there_ when it really counted, and if he’d just… if he’d just had a few more years to  _grow_ some, he would’ve…

Those hypothetical kids would have  _loved_ him, and now they won’t even know what they’re missing out on. But Kurt does, and that ache never seems to go away.

His silence must have been very telling, because his dad’s voice is much gentler when he speaks again. “Right after your mom died, when we were a mess and I had no idea what to  _do_ , I used to watch you and wish that it’d been the other way around. Because she would have known what to do for you, to make things  _better_  and I couldn’t even cook a chicken.”

“You did a great job, dad,” Kurt whispers. Screw Skype, he wishes this conversation was in person because he could really use a hug from his dad.

“It didn’t feel like it at the time. But Kurt, trust me on this, you  _can’t_ think like that. The world sucks and sometimes really,  _really_ bad things happen. And it’s completely okay to be upset when they do, but you  _can’t_ let the what if’s run you into the ground. Other people need you just as much as you miss him.”

His dad takes a deep breath before adding, “I’m not trying to tell you how to live your life. You’ve never listened to me when I’ve done that before. And I’m not asking you to move out of your loft and refuse to speak to Rachel ever again. I just want you to stand up for yourself and  _try_ to be happy.”

Kurt nods, even though he’s fully aware that his dad can’t see it, and reaches over for the tissues by his bed to blow his nose. He takes a couple deep breaths, tries to center himself, and mostly succeeds. Burt waits him out, and Kurt tries to match his breathing to what he can hear of his dad’s.

“I love you, bud. And I  _am_ proud of you.”

“I love you too, dad.” His voice is nasally as he says it, but his dad doesn’t comment on it, just starts in on a story about something that happened in the neighborhood. Kurt only half listens, paying more attention to the sound of his voice than the actual words. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but when he wakes up from his impromptu nap, the line is dead and there’s a typo-filled text from his dad.

Rachel comes home, takes one look at him and decides he’s sick. She refuses to come near him for the rest of the day and he finds it hard to care just then. 


End file.
